


Agape.

by EzraScarlet246



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: AU, Family, Friendship, Gen, Love, Protective!Katniss, Scared!Prim, Sisterly Love, With A Twist, the hunger games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraScarlet246/pseuds/EzraScarlet246
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss is determined to protect Prim, no matter what the cost. Unable to volunteer for Prim at the reaping, Katniss does the next best thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agape.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're confused at the beginning, just keep reading and you'll understand. Also, this is my first time writing in first person since forever so if there are any inconsistencies in POV please tell me so I can fix it straight away.
> 
> Notes: Slanted text, like so, means it is either a flashback, inner thought, or there is emphasis on that word.

I pull at the tie wound uncomfortably around my neck, trying to loosen the (what seems too be) iron noose.

A dull hum of chatter settles around everyone, nothing comprehensible except for the electronic crackle of static over the speakers as they adjust the microphone sound. People stand all around, bodies buzzing with anxiety and fear.

Parent's stand off to the side, faces drawn and pale as they stretch their necks to keep their children within their sights.

 _Will it be my child next?_  Their faces all seem to scream.

_Will my child be the next one condemned to hell?_

I turns away from their faces, unable to look at their barely concealed terror any longer.

Finally, the hum of voices silences, as a peacock of a woman prances onto the stage, feathers billowing out behind her and smile stretched out across her unnaturally pale face.

 _Effie Trinket_ , I think with disgust. Turning slightly to the left, I catch Gale's eye. Seeing that I'm paying attention, he shoots a glance at Effie, pulls a face, and then rolls his eyes.

I snort in return.

Looking at him now though, a thrum of fear shoots through me like an arrow when I think about the amount of lots he has in the ballot. Closing my eyes, I take a deep, calming breath.

_It's going to be alright._

If I only could convince myself that were true.

At Effie's appearance, everyone seems to have drawn instinctively closer, as if to draw comfort from the strangers around them. The air is suddenly tight and claustrophobic. I try not to think about the sweat and smell of urine I can smell all around me, but it is overwhelming.

To distract myself, I stare up at the podium which has two class balls rested on either side. In one of those glass balls, lies twenty-one slips of paper with the name "Katniss Everdeen" etched into them. On forty-two slips of those papers is Gale's name.

Shying away from those thoughts, I turn to Effie and try to concentrate on her words.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in you favor".

My nose wrinkles in disgust at that, and I can tell from the low hum rising up from around me that I'm not the only one. Effie, either unperturbed or unaware of the unrest her words have caused, continues on. She talks about many things, honor of the games, repentance for past sins, but no ones listening anymore. We've all memorized this dialogue, this speech repeated year after year.

Eventually, Effie finishes, her wig still having fallen slightly askew after her customary run in with Haymitch. Like she does every year, she chirps "Ladies first!", before stalking over to the glass bowel full of girls names. She digs in, up to her elbow, before removing one sheet of paper which had been folded roughly.

Unfolding the paper she reads out the name.

Primrose Everdeen.

My heart thumps erratically within my chest, threatening to burst out, and it isn't until someone stops and stares that I realize a small whimper has left my throat. Faintly, I note that my sister has stalked almost robotically up to the podium, face chalky white as my mother sobs in the crowd.

She was supposed to be protected, safe. Her name couldn't have been submitted more than a handful of times.

"No" I breathe out, voice cracking. "Prim".

But no ones listening to me, or perhaps they cannot bare to look at me. Whichever it was, all attention was now focused solely on Effie and she reached once more into the glass ball and withdrew another name.

Peeta Mellark.

Faintly, a memory pushes to the forefront of my mind of a boy and a few loafs of bread, recognisation coursing through me as I watch him climb up the steps and make his way onto the stage. But my thoughts are consumed by the sight of small, delicate Prim shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down her face and lip trembling.

Pushing through a panic induced haze, I do the only thing I can.

"I volunteer!" I gasp "I volunteer as tribute!"

The crowd draw in a collective gasp, and somewhere off into the distance I can hear my mother screaming in agony. But I'm not looking at her. Instead, all I can see is Prim and her dumbstruck face as she watches me.

The crowd separates around me, a sense of reverence in their gazes. They all know that it's not simply The Games I've volunteered for.

Taking the path that's been cleared for me, I climb up the stairs and onto the stage.

"Katniss!" I hear someone shout from behind me, before a vice like grip is holding me back. Turning, it's to find my mother, tears streaming down her face.

"No" she whispers, words barely passing her horror struck lips. "No".

Suddenly, arms are wrapped around my mothers midriff, pulling her backwards and away. The face of Gale pops up over my mothers shoulder, and in it I know he understands.

"Up you go, Catnip." he says in a voice just nigh on breaking. "Don't be a wuss".

Drawing comfort from the small attempt at levity, I glance once more a my stricken mother, and climb the steps to my doom.

My little sister is still standing their, dumbstruck. I wish I could tell her it was alright, that everything was going to be okay, but instead I turn towards Effie, who looks as if all her dreams had just come true.

"Oh! Well isn't this just wonderful! And what is your name, dear?" she asks enthusiastically, practically shoving the microphone under into my face.

"Katniss." I say quietly, though my voice booms out across the square as if I had shouted it. "Katniss Everdeen."

"...Oh". And now understanding and horror has entered her eyes, expressions that seem almost alien upon her features.

"Yeah" I reply in a hollow tone. "Oh."

Regaining herself, she plasters a smile back onto her painted face.

"Well then dear, I guess you are free to go then, hmm? Better luck next year. Who knows, you could get pulled out twice in a row! Now wouldn't that be a treat?"

No one spares her a glance though. Instead, I stare at Peeta, and he stares at me. Something passes through our gazes, and for a short second, I think I see gratitude mingling with respect, before all emotions exit his tear stained face and he goes to rejoin his family. His parents pull him into their arms, faces drawn in relief and happiness. His father catches my gaze over Peeta's shoulder, mouth wording out a quiet  _Thank you_  to which I nod in return.

I refrain from telling them I didn't do this for them. And I have to stop myself from crying as the whole district simultaneously places the three fingers of their right hands to their lips, and extends them towards me. Towards us.

_Goodbye. And Good luck._

"Well then" Effie says, clapping her hands together in glee. "It looks like we have our tributes! If you could just come here and shake hands please, that would be lovely!"

Not pausing to even think about it, I stride over to the middle of the stage, and wait. My sister takes longer, shaking legs unable to support her as they should do, duck tail poking out from the back. It takes everything I have in me not to go over there and pick her up, stroke her hair until her shaking stops.

But, if this is going to work, I cannot seem weak. And neither can she.

So instead, I wait, until finally she stands, so small and delicate in front of me, balancing precariously on the balls of her feet like she might topple over any second.

I extend my hand, clasping her shaking one in mine. I give it a small squeeze, drawing her big blue eyes to mine. There's fear and tears and love in her gaze, and it just makes my gut curl even more protectively at the sight of it. But, leveling her gaze with mine, I shoot her a look full of warning and strength, hoping she understands. Judging by the subtle hardening of her eyes and the set of her lip, she does.

Breaking our handshake, Effie turns us both towards the crowd, clasping one of our hands each in hers, and thrusting them into the air.

"District Twelve" She squeals in her too high voice, "may I present to you your girl and boy tributes for this year, Primrose and Katniss Everdeen!"

Not a single person claps. Not a single one raises their voices in cheer, not even those who had bet on the outcome of this reaping. No, all that could be heard over the overwhelming silence was the hollow, heart-wrenching sobs of a mother faced with the prospect of losing her entire world.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one I've been wanting to write for a while now but never could find the effort to. Of course, as I'm currently in the middle of exams, this was the perfect time (Translation: Worse). Anyways, tell me if you like it and if you think I should continue. Thank you, and please do read and review, especially if you want me to continue!


End file.
